


Everywhere He's Goin' Such a Very Short Time

by MizGoat



Series: Like the Air You Breathe [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Science Fiction, Arguing, Blow Jobs, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Wings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-11
Updated: 2013-02-11
Packaged: 2017-11-28 22:41:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,879
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/679669
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MizGoat/pseuds/MizGoat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean has been stuck with Castiel on this back water planet for a few days now, and he can't help but wonder how long it will take the Angel to start to regret his decision to rescue him.</p><p>Sequel to <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/646570">Lighting the Fuses and Counting to Three</a></p>
            </blockquote>





	Everywhere He's Goin' Such a Very Short Time

**Author's Note:**

> This work is a sequel to [Lighting the Fuses and Counting to Three](http://archiveofourown.org/works/646570). You don't strictly have to read that one first, but it's probably going to make this story make more sense if you do.

It was a bit  of a struggle to extract himself from the bed these days. Dean had never been much for mornings anyway, but sleeping with Cas was a bit like sharing a bed with a needy octopus. It was as if, upon falling asleep, the angel’s bones turned to rubber and he developed a deep need to twist around Dean. It wasn’t so bad though. Not really. It beat sleeping alone.

The first night in the cramped hotel bed that looked like it was designed for someone’s pet, Dean had slipped into sleep easy enough, but had been woken from a nightmare of fire and fear by Cas’s shaking. Before he had even gotten a solid grip on where he was or what was going on he had managed to get a solid grip around Cas’s throat. No amount of coaxing had gotten him to return to the bed that night. It didn’t matter that he had felt the inhuman way that the angel’s flesh had barely yielded beneath his fingers.

But roughly 27 hours later when Dean was having trouble fighting off sleep any longer, Cas had lured him back with a simple assurance that Dean could not injure him. Not seeing any finger shaped bruises on the angel’s neck had helped.  And when Cas woke Dean from that round of nightmares it was with Dean pinned beneath him in an almost frighteningly efficient way. That had left bruises. Then Cas, without comment, had wiggled back into the portion of the bed that largely belonged to him and dozed off again. And then moments later he had returned to nuzzling closer and curling around Dean.

And maybe it made him a bastard, but he was willing to live with that. He wasn’t really sure he was comfortable with how he felt about the angel, or that he could really understand what there was between them, but he needed to sleep, he didn’t want to be stuck in the nightmares, and if Cas was willing to help, he’d take it. If the price was having to work at detangling himself from a mess of angel limbs in the morning so he could get to the deep space relay link by the time he had it booked for, so be it. And the prospect of talking to Sam had pretty much killed any chance of being in a bad mood today.

“Common grabby, shift yourself.” He told the half awake angel, who made an indistinct grumbling in response. But he finally loosed himself from Cas’s ever shifting grapple and sat up. And promptly started to curse as he smacked his head on the low slanted ceiling for the fourth day in a row. Or at any rate the fourth time after he had fallen asleep. He wasn’t sure how long this planet’s solar day was, but it seemed to be roughly one and a half times Earth standard. He knew better than to try and push his body into accepting anything that far out of the norm, so he had just been sleeping whenever he felt tired enough to do so, and only paying attention to local time when he had to schedule communications access. 

He rubbed his head and peered at the timepiece on the hotel room wall. He was so ready to see the back of this planet. Surely Sam couldn’t be too far out now. The Impala was a fast ship, for all that she was a little old.

As he pulled on his worn pair of boots while sitting on the edge of the bed he, felt a hand brush against his thigh and shooed it away. Looking over, he saw Castiel face down on the bed. There were no pillows, but he had bunched up his trenchcoat to serve as an impromptu replacement, and Dean couldn’t help but chuckle at the sight of all the dark messy hair sticking out at odd angles against the tan fabric. God only knew how he could breathe like that. The large black wings were rapidly spreading out to fill the space Dean had occupied. The little room had a single small round window that was letting in a few rays of sunlight which caught and glinted on the black feathers that reflected them back in shades of purple and green. 

“I’ll be back in a little.” Dean said, while he reached over and patted the angel’s shoulder none too gently which shook the weird little oval bed causing it to let out a series of odd squeaks and creaks.

Once he was actually out of the cramped room he had shared with Castiel for the past few days, he found himself in a sort of panic. He had been getting by largely by leaving his relationship with Cas as thoroughly unexamined as possible, but Sam was gonna want answers, and he sure as hell didn’t have any. And that was bypassing entirely the problem of what to do with the angel. He had said he was in exile, but maybe there was someplace with other winged expats that he’d want to end up. He’d never actually bothered to ask.

Dean looked down at his boots as they quickly became covered in the strange, unpleasant looking burnt orange dirt of the road. He had eight klicks more to walk along this crop field lined track before he came to what passed for a port on this backwater rock, and nothing to fill the space in his mind but his own muddled, dark thoughts.

He hadn’t had to worry too much about filling the silences recently. It was one of the many small miracles of Cas that he was profoundly curious about even the most mundane things. It gave Dean room to ramble on about safe inanities and the more questions he got to field about “Why do you call me Cas?” or, “Why are the Ostraylkayn frightened of us?” (“Because your name is a friggin mouthful.” and “Because we fell from the sky in a ball of flame then walked away from it.” respectively) the less he had to worry about what the hell was happening with him, the angel, his stupid mixed up life, or any of it.

There had been a few questions from his end for the angel as well, but all in keeping with the same safe inanity. He had found out that angels apparently had wings so they could fly. Which seemed like a stupid answer for a stupid question if Dean had ever heard one. And when he had asked Cas about his family he had found out that, while he apparently had siblings, there was a certain emphasis placed on the fact that the relationship was different in angelic society that made Dean think that he didn’t get on overly well with them.

The one question he hadn’t quite been able to bring himself to ask was, “Why me?” Angel’s plans were inscrutable. That much was common knowledge. But accepting that an ultra powerful race had an ineffable plan was a lot easier before he had become part of it. By the same measure however, there was the niggling worry that the angel would realize he had made a mistake and take him back. Dean was not going back to Helheim. No damn way.

And of course there was the fact that Cas had apparently mucked up the rescue in some way that only made real sense to him, but which meant that he wasn’t allowed to go home. Some weirdness about their genetics getting screwed up in the teleportation process. And for whatever reason, he didn’t seem to hold Dean accountable for any of it.

Well, hell, he didn’t need to. Dean was perfectly capable of blaming himself. The beautiful angel couldn’t go home because he had pulled Dean out of Helheim. That was one bastard of debt to repay.

Oh, and they had fucked. And that had been the Angel’s idea. Also, surprisingly damn good. And regrettably unrepeated, because after the first night, Cas had seemed content to leave it at snuggling, and Dean couldn’t bring himself to push the issue. Everything was one big messy ball of tangled twine. It was likely that the only way to untangle it was to cut down through the middle, and Dean was pretty sure he was happier just slipping around the edges and letting it be.

When the small lumpy, dome shaped, grey-brown buildings of the town grew large in his view, Dean felt a sort of relief. He tried to sort out what he would tell Sam. This call was gonna run through the last of their funds, so he needed to be collected. _Hey Sam, I know I have mysteriously bust out of one of the most secure jails in the galaxy, but if you could just swing right on down and pick me and the bizarre alien I’ve been fooling around with that would be awesome._ Probably not going to cover it. This would be the first time he’d talked to his brother since before he had been arrested. The first call he had made had been to Bobby Singer. Their dispatcher was less likely to have changed his contact codes, and these sorts of deep space calls were too expensive to try dialing a number that might not connect. With any luck Bobby would have borne the brunt of Sam’s curiosity. Lord knows he had asked enough questions.

Still there was no time to be hesitant. He had 5 minutes scheduled, most of that would be used with relaying the landing ordinances for this planet, and whatever else he could fit in would have to do.

Accessing the communications relay didn’t just require a metric ton of money, it also involved filling out miles of paperwork. The Ostraylkayn, for all their outward civility, apparently trusted offworlders about as far as they could throw them. Dean found himself shifting under the gaze of six beady stalk eyes as the alien behind the desk waited for him to finish taping in the answers to their myriad of questions on a data slate. He lied for most of them, simply out of habit and the knowledge that the Ostraylkayn couldn’t really check.

And then he was sitting in the little booth with the stool that would have been at a great height for him, if he was six. His knees were up somewhere around his chin and he had to reach awkwardly around them to reach the controls. Some beeps, a bit of static hiss, and then there was his little brother’s face staring back at him on the small display, and it was the most welcome sight Dean had seen since he had first glimpsed Helheim disappearing behind them in the displays of Cas’s ship.

“Hey Sammy,” he managed to choke out. Damnit, no. He was going to be cool.

“Dean,” Sam had the decency to sound a little messed up too, but he hastily righted the conversation.

“Dude, are you going all mountain man now?” Sam teased. Dean rubbed the four day’s of scraggly growth on his chin thoughtfully.

“Believe it or not, you do not get a complimentary bag of toiletries when you break out of jail. I’ll lose the face fuzz as soon as I get back to the land of easily accessible razors.” Dean paused as Sam chuckled before he added, “Where are you?” He hoped to whatever deity might listen to him that he didn’t sound as desperate as he thought he might have.

“About 28 hours out, give or take a bit.” Beauty. Wonderful. One more night on this ball of dirt then back into the cosmos with his brother, where he was supposed to be.

Snapping himself out of his moment of dumb sentimentality, Dean started to rattle off the information Sam would need to make his landing. Sam nodded and seemed to be taking notes. When he at last came to the end of the spiel Sam looked straight at him the questions clearly forming.

“How in the hell did you get out?”

“Angel pulled me out, and no I don’t know why.” Cut that one off at the pass.

“Bobby said I’m picking up two?”

“Me and the angel. Long story. Look have you been taking care of the Impala?” Not going into that one either.

“Yes, of course. Dean you have not seriously been worrying about that?” Sam’s face screwed into a blessedly familiar disbelieving exasperation.

“‘Cause you know if you’ve been mistreating my baby I’ll take it out of your flesh.” And there they were, words out of his damn mouth, and no taking them back. _It’s a joke. A joke you’ve made a thousand times._ But that was not nearly enough. Shit, shit, shit.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Jerk.”

“Bitch.” More automatic talking. And then the screen blipped off and a cheerful mechanical voice told him his time was up.

Dean carefully unfolded himself up from the short stool and left the large station house that housed the public communications relay. Outside there was the general bustle of daily life on an agrarian people swirling about him. Not for the first time he felt the weird disconnect that came from knowing that there was a whole planet full of intelligent life here and that he would never be more than something that passed through. It made everything and everyone you met along the way seem less real. These were just spectres passing through his life, not real people. This planet would only be here a little while, then it would be nothing but a memory. Maybe a story to tell at the Roadhouse. _A heavily edited story,_ Dean thought with a hint of amusement.

And speaking of food, he needed to eat. He should probably bring some back with him too. Cas didn’t eat much, but he did eat, and Dean was starving. At any rate by the time he gave notice to the port authorities to expect the Impala’s arrival, filled out the paperwork that would no doubt accompany such a notice, and walked back it would be getting late. Or at least his circadian rhythms would be telling him it was regardless of this planet’s 36 or so hour solar day.

* * *

 

On the way back, near to their hotel, he was startled to spot Castiel standing in the middle of a field of what he would have called wheat if it hadn’t been only growing only as high as his knees at harvest time and brilliant purple. 

Still more surprising was that the angel was not alone. Standing uncomfortably close to Cas was a short rotund man, no not man, it was another angel. Dean could see the wings now. They were a sort of dirty looking beige. Nothing like Cas’s oil slick black ones. The man was balding, ill complected, and ungraceful looking. About the only thing he seemed to have in common with Cas was the bad suit, though the newcomer wore his with a bit more care to looking neat than Cas did.

Dean slowed his pace, uncertain of what this new event held in store for him. He wasn’t quite close enough to hear what they were saying but Castiel had bunched up his wings and was fluffing the feathers out slightly. Were they arguing? Cas did that when he was frustrated with something. Unconsciously he tightened his grip on the paper sack of supper he had forgotten he was carrying.

Then fast as a lightning flash Cas extended his wings to their full length out behind him, and Dean could have sworn he saw the angel’s eyes flash brilliant glowing white. The strange angle disappeared as if he had never been there, and Cas’s wings dropped back to their normal resting position.

Cas spotted Dean then and began to head over, slow and seemingly unconcerned.

“The hell was that?” Dean demanded as soon as the angel was within earshot.

“One of my brothers came to speak with me.” Cas said placidly as he hopped over a small irrigation ditch.

“So I saw. What about?” Dean sounded perhaps a little more angry than he meant to.

“He offered me a means of ending my exile.” Cas turned to start walking the road back to the hotel.

“And?” Dean hustled a few steps to catch up and walk along side the angel.

“The terms were unacceptable.” Was that just the hint of anger tinging Cas’s voice? The angel was definitely setting a more determined pace than his usual lingering walk that let him watch everything they passed as if it was something new and magical.

“What, they want you to kick a puppy or something?” Dean joked mostly out of habit. At that Cas stopped and turned to stare at Dean with his head cocked to one side and brows furrowed. He seemed about to ask a question, but after a moment he apparently decided to skip it.

“They wanted me to return you to Helheim.” he said flatly. Dean shivered and felt his stomach drop.

“What?” he managed to growl out.

“I will not return you to that prison.” Castiel’s voice was firm.

“Why the hell not? I mean, not that I mind exactly here, but,” Dean trailed off.

“I,” Cas faltered. “This is not something I am willing to do.” He turned and started to walk again.

“No. Hold up here.” Dean found himself chasing after angel again. “Isn’t you rescuing me supposed to be part of the big ass plan? When did that change? The hell is going on here Cas?”

Cas wheeled on him, wings flared and power all but crackling in the air around him. It was easy to forget when you spent days at a time with him acting like a lost puppy that he was part of the one race no one in the galaxy messed with.

“Twice I have abandoned all I have known for you. Will you not respect that I want some measure of privacy in this?” 

“You know what? Fuck that. This is my life you are messing around with here. I think I have a right to know.” Dean was impressed that he had managed to keep his voice from wavering.

“I know it is your life.” Castiel said through clenched teeth. “It’s why I refused to undo what I have done. But more than that I cannot tell you.” He paused then added, “Please, Dean.” He sounded smaller with that.

“This is bullshit.” Dean said dismissively.

“Some aspects of what angel’s do are sacred secrets.” Cas insisted. They were back at the hotel now, and the argument followed them up the building’s spiral staircase that bulged out the side of the building so that half the steps were out doors.

“Ok then. Answer me this, what the hell am I to you Cas? You give up your whole world for me? I’m noone. You barely know me. Within 24 hours of first meeting me, you’re climbing into my shower and we are forming the beast with two backs. The hell is up with that, and the whole I can feel a connection with you crap?” Dean’s agitation was increased by having to direct this line of questions to Castiel’s lower back and ass as they climbed. Which is probably why he nearly smacked into said anatomical parts when Cas stopped short.

“You are not no one,” Cas said so softly Dean had to strain to hear him. It put a short moratorium on the quarrel until they got back to their tiny room and Cas was forced to turn and face Dean. 

“Normally I would be able to feel my brethren, and to be clear, I mean all of my race, not just those I share a biological similarity to. Wherever they were in the universe, I would be aware of them.” Cas was looking looking at the ground somewhere to the left of them. Instinctually Dean followed his gaze only to realize there was nothing there but a patch of unremarkable grey stone floor. “Now the only one I can sense in that manner is you.”

“What is is that even supposed to mean?” Dean mumbled in response. Cas had mentioned this before, and while Dean was fairly certain he could get a grip on what the words meant, they simply didn’t clarify where he stood with the angel at all.

“What exactly are you asking of me? I don’t know how else to explain it.” Cas’s brows furrowed. “Is that dinner?”

It took a bit of processing to realise that Cas ment the bag Dean was holding. And that, was typical of how Cas worked. If he had a question he would ask it with no regard to bizarre it would sound in context.

“Eat up,” Dean grumbled as he tossed Cas the bag. “Lumps and sludge, bon appetit.”

Alien cuisine was always a dodgy adventure at best. Thousands of different species found thousands of different naturally occurring chemical combinations toxic and what was a delicacy to one race was a deadly poison to another. So far Dean had figured out exactly two Ostraylkayn dishes he and presumably Cas could safely eat. One was a sort of greyish vegetable filled dumpling the other a thick vegetarian stew that was a violent shade of green. Having zero desire to attempt to pronounce their proper names he had appointed them lumps and sludge. They were filling, but lacking in anything that might be called flavor. He had once told Sam that any food you could actually put on a plate and chew was better than Nutripaste Ship’s Rations. Four days of lumps and sludge was seriously making him rethink that opinion.

Cas perched himself on the edge of the bed and set to trying to eat as fastidiously as he could with flimsy disposable utensils designed for hands very differently shaped from his own. Dean slumped down on the other side of the bed with a large sigh, and kicked his boots off. With the momentum of the argument lost, he found he didn’t really want to continue. Pointing out that the angel was saving him at detriment to himself wasn’t really in his best interest, and as long as he keep the situation framed in that light it was easier to bite his tongue.

“Sam will be here to pick us up soon. Do you have somewhere you want us to take you?” Might as well get the question over with.

“Don’t know,” Cas said around a mouthful of food without looking up. “Did you have something in mind?”

“What? No! I’m asking you.” The hell kind of answer was that? Of course Dean didn’t have anything in mind. The hell was he supposed to know about where the angel would want to go.

“I have never left my home system before this. I really do not know where I should be now that I cannot return there.” Cas had quit eating and was pushing the lumps around into the sludge. 

“Well I’m not gonna just leave you somewhere you don’t want to be. Look, I’m off the map here too, alright. This is my first time trying to help out an exiled angel.” It was Dean’s turn to look pointedly away.

“Dean, forgive me, I didn’t mean to impugn your sense of honor,” Cas said in dead earnest, and Dean had to choke down a laugh at the archaic formality.

“Dude, it’s fine, whatever. You can just travel with Sam and I for a bit until you figure out what you want to do,” Dean said with an affected nonchalance. 

“I would like that.” Oh, and he meant it. Cas didn’t really smile ever, but his eyes had softened a little, slight wrinkles appearing at the edges. Dean found his chest tightening and his breath coming shorter. Sam probably wouldn’t like the idea of a freeloading alien riding around with them, but tough. Dean had a debt to pay. The fact that he desperately wanted bone said alien right now absolutely was not part of that equation.

Cas carefully set the remaining food in the corner, where, with luck, no one would step in it. Then he came and knelt closer to Dean on the bed than would be normally socially acceptable. He reached up and ran his fingers along the side of Dean’s face, tracing the line that lead from his hair into the messy days old beard. Then abruptly he pulled his hand away. Dean found himself missing the touch, so without thinking, he grabbed the angel’s hand and put it back.

“I believe I broke some sort of social taboo last time we did this,” Cas murmured, sounding uncertain. “You were quite emphatic about it afterward.”

“You walked in on me in the shower. That was it. Was I not clear about that? God, let me make that more clear,” Dean’s voice came fast and rough. “I don’t want you to walk in on me while I am bathing. Everything that happened after that I am one hundred percent a-ok with.”

“Oh,” Cas whispered. He reached over and gently grabbed Dean’s hand. It was an uncomfortably intimate gesture, but Dean twisted his palm around so he could hold Cas’s hand in return anyway. 

Then Cas suddenly released his hand and pulled away. Dean leaned forward and was about to voice his protest when he realized that Cas had reached around behind himself and was working the clasps that held his jacket closed under his wings. Dean reached out and fingered the first button of Cas’s shirt then paused and looked upward with raised eyebrows, seeking permission. It was given with a hasty nod and a distinctly hungry look in the angel’s brilliant blue eyes.

Dean’s hands alternated between unfastening the buttons and palming the bare flesh of Cas’s chest the shirt slowly revealed as it came undone. He marveled at the way the muscles moved just below the skin’s surface as the other man shrugged first out of his trenchcoat and then his shirt. When he felt a tug on the sleeve of his own worn jacket, he quickly shucked it off. Then Dean lifted his arms over his head cooperatively as Cas peeled off his t-shirt.

The room felt suddenly chilly without his shirt, so Dean wriggled in closer to Cas for warmth. He bent his head and pressed a kiss to the sweet little hollow where the collarbones met the sternum. Cas shivered at the contact the hunched his head and shoulders down to catch the next kiss with his lips. It took Dean a minute to realize it because the vast majority of his attention was pleasantly occupied with kissing Cas, but he had been gently maneuvered backward until his back rested against the cool smooth brown stone of the wall. Cas had raised his wings, and once more Dean found himself sectioned off from the rest of the world in a little cocoon of the angel’s creation.

Cas spread his knees and moved forward so that he was sitting astride Dean’s lap. Dean was struck, not for the first time, that Cas was heavier than he seemed like he should be for someone who was shorter than Dean was and with a slighter build. It was oddly comforting. It made him seem more solid and real.

When even the small gap that remained between them seemed like too much space, Dean reached his arms around Castiel’s waist and pulled him closer so their stomachs pressed against each other and reveled in the heat coming from Cas’s taught muscles. He slid his hands upward until they met the place on Cas’s back where his wings grew out. The feathers on the underside were surprisingly soft and fluffy and Dean couldn’t resist running his fingers through them, and Cas instantly jerked away.

“Sorry, sorry,” Dean cooed. “That hurt?”

“No,” Cas grumbled. “It felt... strange.”

A slow smile crept over Dean’s face as realization dawned on him.

“Why Cas,” he said, with mock innocence while his fingers crept closer to their target. “Are you ticklish?” As he finished the sentence he buried his fingers in the small feathers and mercilessly attacked Cas’s newfound weakness.

A short tussle ensued that ended with Dean pinned under the angel and laughing harder than he had in a long time. Something inside him that had been coiled tightly unwound itself, at least for a little while. Cas was looking at him like he had spontaneously generated an extra head, but it felt far too good to be laying here half naked under Cas, with no where else he needed to be for him to be bothered by that.

Or all naked, apparently, if Cas had his way. He was fussing with the fly to Dean’s pants, and Dean lifted his hips to help slide his pants along with his underwear down to fall with a thump somewhere on the floor. Two smaller thumps were in all likelihood Cas’s shoes, but they had started to kiss again and Dean couldn’t see. He did however tug open the front of Cas’s trowsers and start to shove them down. Cas took over the rest and then both of them were naked, pressed close in the little odd shaped bed with their fingers trailing over each other in lazy exploration.

Slowly Cas’s kisses started to drift downward. Dean fidgeted slightly under the unfamiliar feeling of Cas’s own four day beard as it tickled down his neck and chest. When Cas came level with Dean’s nipples he lingered a while. When he first felt Cas’s tongue slide over one of them, Dean arched his back and moaned his appreciation. Castiel took the hint and continued to lavish attention on them, pausing occasionally to switch sides. Meanwhile Dean had started to trace along the bony ridge at the top of Cas’s left wing with his index finger and thumb which Cas decidedly enjoyed a great deal more than being tickled.

After a while Cas continued his agonizingly slow journey down Dean’s torso toward Dean’s cock which was now fully hard and starting to twitch with want. He stopped just short and raked his fingers through Dean’s pubes.

“Cas,” Dean hissed urgently, drawing out the last letter.

“What?” Cas murmured. Dean shivered as the exhaled breath cooled his sweat soaked skin.

“Please, Cas, please.” Dean panted. “Don’t tease.”

And then Cas’s pink tongue flicked out over the underside of Dean’s dick, Dean bucked under him and grunted. As Cas dropped his mouth down over his dick, Dean all but lost conscious thought. His head rolled back and his eyes screwed shut, breath coming in quick harsh gulps.

After a few moments of abandonment to the all consuming pleasure coming from his cock, from some deep recess of his mind Dean managed to scramble enough neurons together for one thought.

“Cas wait,” he growled out and pushed backward lightly on the angels head trailing his fingers through the messy dark brown hair. This earned him an annoyed grunt, but Cas stopped and looked up at him expectantly. 

“Spin ‘round,” Dean said gesturing faintly in a spiral with a raised finger. Cas stared blankly back.

“Wanna do you too. Turn round,” Dean tried again. This time Cas’s eyebrows shot up in recognition and he quickly unfolded himself from where he had been nestled in between Dean’s legs.

It took a little shuffling to get to where they were both comfortable on the small bed. Dean ended up with his head pillowed on Cas’s lean muscled thigh, one hand wrapped around the base of Cas’s prick the other with a firm grip on the angel’s slender ass. Dean’s hips were flat against the bed with Cas propped up on an elbow over them. It also took a few tries to find a matching rhythm as they sucked each other. It was well worth it Dean decided as he felt Cas groan around his cock.

Dean worked the fingers of the hand he had on Cas’s ass further around and deeper into the crevice between the toned cheeks. He hummed gently as he felt the edge of one of Cas’s wings brush along his ear and shoulder. There was a slight thrill of triumph as his fingers brushed against Cas’s hole, and Cas rocked backward into the touch with a small cry. Cas began to thrust his hips with a newfound urgency. Dean took the hint and sped up his pace while he continued to tease his fingers over Cas’s tight pucker.

“Dean,” Cas cried tossing his head back, his normally rough voice made even more ragged by need. Dean shivered with pleasure at the sound of it, thrilled at the way Cas could make his name sound like an obscene prayer during sex. Then Cas’s hips shook as orgasim racked his body and Dean had to hastily swallow to keep the bitter fluid from running down his chin. 

It didn’t take long for Dean to follow suit after Cas pulled himself together enough to regain interest in sucking Dean’s cock, grunting as he hunched forward into Cas’s warm mouth completely absorbed by that one single moment.

Dean shifted so he could peer down between their bodies as the heat between them began to drop from a fever to a softer glow and saw Cas pulling off his cock leaving the two of them connected for a moment by a string of spittle. And for a heartbeat he was unable to decide if that was erotic or mildly disgusting. Then he noticed that Cas was scraping his teeth over his tongue repeatedly and he let out a low chuckle. 

“Just spit it out next time then, if you don’t like the taste.” he said, reaching his arms down and shifting his head off of Cas’s thigh.

“It wasn’t exactly... bad,” Castiel murmured apologetically as he twisted around to slide into Deans extended arms.

“It’s fine Cas, really. I’m not offended here.” Dean smiled as Cas wriggled in his arms until he found a comfortable spot lying on his stomach with his head resting on Dean’s arm. Cas stretched one wing over so that it rested on Dean’s chest and Dean brought his hand up to absentmindedly smooth through the feathers. They lay there a long time like that in silence until Dean shifted to pull his arm loose before he completely lost circulation to his hand. As he did so he found himself looking straight into Cas’s intense blue gaze.

“I’m sorry you can’t go home because of me.” The words were out of his mouth before he had a chance to really think about them.

“Don’t be,” Cas told him in that same level voice he seemed to use for everything outside of sex. “It’s not you really. And you have been quite kind in extending your hospitality to me. To be truthful I’m not certain that I wish to return just yet. Traveling a while with you is not unappealing.” There was a certain emphasis on “with you” that made Dean’s heart flutter.

 “It’s nothing, really,” he whispered knowing it was a lie. “Get some sleep.” 

**Author's Note:**

> So much for "I'ma write more in this setting so I can show off other planets!" Really. I will write a story when they are out in the 'verse, I swear. This was also gonna be from Cas's POV, until I decided that I liked the ending better from Dean's standpoint. So I need to write at least one story focusing on Cas yet too.
> 
> Title is from _Leaving Louisiana in the Broad Daylight_ by Emmylou Harris. You may also know it by The Oak Ridge Boys, but I like Ms. Harris' version better (in the fullness of truth it was written by Rodney Crowell and Donivan Cowart but neither of them ever recorded it to my knowledge).
> 
> Post Script: Because the universe delights in making me look like a tit, I no sooner write that I don't think Rodney Crowel recorded _Leaving Louisiana in the Broad Daylight_ than his version of it plays on my country music Pandora channel on my drive in to work. It's a good version, but I still like Emmylou Harris' best.
> 
> Also, I made a mix for my fic songs: [Listen Here](http://8tracks.com/mizgoat/fic-writing)


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